“Melody House has stood for nearly three hundred years, and in that time, we can only imagine all the dramas that have been lived—and the passions and dreams that have perished here as well. They say that we are energy, and energy cannot be destroyed. Just as they say that Melody House is haunted. If ghosts and spirits are those who remained, their energy still fiercely alive due to trauma or tragedy, then there would be nothing more natural than the fact that Melody House indeed be haunted! Throughout the years, many have seen, or have believed they have seen, the ghosts of those tragic souls. In the early eighteen-hundreds, the courageous Andrew Jackson, later to be president of the United States, once spent only half a night here, and mentioned to someone later that he’d rather face the British army again than spend another night at Melody House. Some swear there is a woman in white, still walking the halls. Others have seen soldiers, still, perhaps, fighting their long-lost battles.” Elizabeth paused, something of a rueful smile on her face. “So. We shall all join hands, in the circle here created, and see what haunts or specters might wish to appear, to convey last words, wishes, or needs.”
Electricity had long ago come to Melody House, but tonight, other than the lights attached to the cameras, there was no illumination within the dining room except for a single candle burning in the center of the table.
Darcy had already felt the cold. Whether Elizabeth was able to communicate with any of the “energy” remaining in the house or not, Darcy again felt the sense of being watched. Whatever entity or entities remained at Melody House, they were watching. Across the table, she saw Penny shiver.
Darcy felt herself nudged. Hands, yes, hold hands. She set hers upon the table. She was next to Jason Johnson, a local writer and historian, and, naturally, another friend of Matt’s, and Clint Stone. Carter was on Clint’s other side. Clint covered her hand warmly with his own, and seemed both amused and curious, as if he might have an open mind to the happenings. Matt was across the table, seated next to Elizabeth. He wore a look of carefully restrained impatience on his hard-sculpted features. Mae, the woman who had been welcoming to her when she had first walked into the Wayside Inn, was there, attractively dressed and groomed, her round face split into a smile of excitement as she sat on Matt’s other side. To round out the group, a pretty young woman with the improbable name of Delilah Dey, newly elected to the town council, sat between Jason Johnson and Mae.
David Jenner, of Jenner Electronics, also at the Wayside Inn when Darcy had first arrived, stood a distance from the group, with video and audio running. Darcy had considered bringing down some of her own equipment, but then had decided that this was not the night for Harrison Investigations’ high-tech “ghost buster” electronics.
“We have joined in a benign and caring circle,” Liz said, addressing the spirits. “We wish to help with any problems, past or present. We have come in love and friendship, and wish to communicate with any presence in his house who desires a voice. Our minds and hearts are open. If there is a presence here, please let yourself be known.”
Darcy felt a breeze at her nape, and she closed her eyes.
The fear had never really left her. Josh, who had been born with his unique perception, had not been afraid. But to Darcy, knowing that a very strange door was open was still a frightening experience. She knew that she had to allow the sensations in, but each time, it still seemed that cold fingers clutched her heart, and it was a fight to do what she knew she did well.
They were not alone.
Talk to me, she thought in silence.
But then her eyes popped open as she heard a rapping at the table. She frowned, then felt a very physical force as the hands grasping around the table all seemed to tighten as one. Elizabeth spoke excitedly.
“We have made a communication! Rap again, please, if you are with us.”
A tap sounded.
Darcy looked around the table, doubting that any of the ghosts were tapping. Matt, too, was looking around the table.
The presence that had been so near Darcy and so apparent to her backed away. It didn’t disappear; it simply receded.
“Are you the spirit we call the Lady in White?” Elizabeth asked.
There was no response.
“Perhaps a soldier?”
There was another rapping.
Matt was staring at Darcy, a certain hostility apparent in his eyes. Anger burst through her. He assumed that she was the one somehow managing to tap the table.
“Did you live during Revolutionary Times,” Elizabeth asked, earnest concern in her voice.
No response. Matt was still staring at Darcy.
“The Civil War?” Elizabeth asked softly.
Another rap.
“Yes! Yes!” Elizabeth said, her eyes closed, her concentration intense. “We believe we know your story. You fought hard, so hard, for what you believed to be a just cause. You died here in this house. But you needn’t stay and fight on. The war is over. Peace has come. And the outcome, in the end, was right. The only outcome that could be right, and the world has moved on. We seek now to offer true justice and equality for all men. You may rest in peace. Do you understand me? Can my words help you find rest?”
Another rap, then a number of excited raps.
Penny whispered softly to Elizabeth. “We don’t want our ghosts to go away! We just want them to be happy.”
“They’re only happy when they’re at peace!” Carter said, staring at Penny with a strange smile.
“This is so exciting!” Mae whispered.
“Hush!” Elizabeth said, moaning softly. “We’ll break the very tenuous thread that is linking us to the entity.”
There was a sound at the table, one of total impatience.
Matt.
“Please!” Elizabeth said. “Captain…you are a captain, right?” she said, addressing the ghost.
There was nothing.
“Let us know. We’re here for you,” Elizabeth said.
There was another rap.
“Yes, you’re a captain. A true gentleman, still fighting for his cause!”
There was suddenly the sound of a shriek. The table jumped.
The sound had come from Delilah. “Someone…something touched my thigh!”
“The captain isn’t such a gentleman,” Clint suggested wryly.
The table jerked again.
Matt swore, and rose, breaking the circle. “David, can you just go ahead and hit the lights?” he asked.
The room was flooded with illumination. “Okay, who was touching Delilah’s legs?”
“Matt, we had contact, real contact,” Elizabeth said, dismayed.
“Oh, please!” Matt said.
“By one horny ghost,” Carter suggested, amused.
Matt glared at him. “Not me!” Carter protested.
All eyes naturally turned to Clint.
“Not on your life!” he protested.
“I’m telling you, we contacted a Civil War soldier,” Elizabeth said stubbornly.
“Absolutely,” Penny agreed. “And one of you destroyed our communication. Matt, you just can’t have those two around the next time we have a seance. Delilah, we really have ghosts here.”
Delilah shivered. “You do really believe that—that a captain from the Civil War was in this room with us?”
“I must say,” Jason remarked, “Everyone’s hands were on the table.” From the way he spoke, it was difficult to tell if he was impressed with the tapping, or merely curious as to how it might have been managed.
“We’re ignoring our expert,” David said, his video still running as he turned the camera on Darcy. “What do you think?”
She answered slowly with a careful shrug. “I’m afraid we weren’t into it long enough for me to really give an opinion.”
Jason smiled at her. “But what do you think? Or feel, or intuit, whatever. Is Melody House haunted?”
“The house has a tremendous history,” Darcy said. “Just being in it makes you feel an affinity for the past.
Maybe that, in itself, makes a place haunted.”
Clint laughed. “Boy, you can talk your way around anything, can’t you, Darcy? What if this were one of those game shows and you had to give a yes or no answer?”
“But it’s not a game show,” Darcy said.
“I was excited!” Elizabeth said. “I know that I made contact. And we’ll set up to do this again. We’ve only just begun. I don’t think tonight would be good. I mean, I don’t think we should try again so soon. Matt—”
“Forgive me, Elizabeth, but I don’t want to set up any more dates right now. Bear with me. I’m sorry. My opinion is that someone here managed to tap on the table—and snag Delilah’s leg in the process, whether on purpose or not.”
“Matt, you are such a cynic!” Penny protested.
“Oh, my,” Delilah said, and she had a half smile on her face as she surveyed the men in the room.
“He’s accusing either you or me,” Carter told Clint, but with no malice.
“Yes, actually, I am,” Matt said sternly, but he didn’t sound overly angry, just impatient. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with a seance from the beginning.
“I think I’m going to step outside for a minute, if you’ll excuse me?” Darcy said.
“I’ll get drinks and some snacks out,” Penny told them.
“Drinks!” Carter said with pleasure.
“I’ll give you a hand, Penny,” Mae said. “I’m still all a-tingle! I’m certain as well that Elizabeth made contact. Couldn’t you feel it? The room was so cold. Oh, yes, there was someone with us. Something. Definitely. And Matt, you must do this again, please? Oh, you must, you must, you must!”
Darcy heard the last as she slipped through the foyer and out the front door. She felt a little guilty for not offering to help Penny herself, but there were others there, and she’d had the strangling sensation that she’d needed to get out.
Night could be so strange. The summer sky like velvet, and so near the mountains, a million stars showing cleanly against the darkness. She leaned against the porch rail for a minute, inhaled deeply, and smelled the fragrant, flower-filled air that marked the season.
Then she sat back in one of the rockers, closing her eyes and savoring the soft, cleansing sweep of the breeze, and wondering herself just who had done the tapping.
She was startled a minute later as she felt a presence next to her.
One that was very much alive, and carrying a low-key scent of aftershave.
She opened her eyes to see that Matt had joined her, taking the chair at her side. He watched her for a moment without speaking.
She turned back and stared at the night, not waiting for him to speak. “No, I don’t believe that the tapping was a ghost.”
With peripheral vision, she saw that a slow rueful smile curled into his lips.
“Thank God! I’d have lost all faith in you if you had said differently.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize that you had faith in me to begin with.”
“That all remains to be seen.”
“I’ve found that most people don’t believe in the occult,” Darcy told him. “Yet just the same, most people have a little voice of suspicion somewhere within them that suggests there might be something more between the living and the dead.”
“You mean they’re open-minded?” he said.
“Maybe minds aren’t all open, but there’s often a crack there somewhere.”
He rocked thoughtfully for a minute. “We’ve always had a military tradition in my family. I went straight into military schools and served in the army for several years. The dead bodies I saw all stayed that way. I first became a cop in the D.C. area, and though much of the country might suggest that the main crimes there are political, I can guarantee you, there were plenty of criminals in the area who know how to kill. Death is usually ugly, but always complete. Then, again, I’m the direct heir to all those years of history, tradition, murder, and mayhem that have gone on at Melody House. If someone were to see something or have a link to the past, wouldn’t it be me?”
Darcy laughed. “Not when there’s not even one of those cracks in your mind to allow the dead to try to speak to you.”
He was silent again, rocking, then looked at her with one of the smiles that suddenly sent a streak of warmth to quicken her limbs whether she wanted to admit it or not.
“When my dad died, I wanted him to speak to me somehow in the worst way. I was willing to do anything—I would have crawled into the coffin to go with him, I loved him so much. It was just about the same with my grandfather, except that I was older then, and more aware that he had lived his years, good years, and gone on.”
The emotion with which he spoke touched her deeply. Then he said, almost scowling, “You weren’t the one pulling off that tapping sound, were you?”
She stiffened, cold and indignant instantly. “No, I was not! And come to think of it, your words just now were quite interesting. You didn’t mention your mother. Do you have something against women, Matt?”
He turned to her, those strange dark gray eyes of his bearing something of a dangerous spark. “I like women just fine, Darcy. Especially the really honest ones, and yes, they are out there. I didn’t mention my mother because she died when I was a few months old, which didn’t allow me a great deal of time to get to know her well.”
She turned back to the night. “Sorry.”
“What about you?”
She gazed at him, and suddenly smiled despite herself. “I don’t have anything at all against other women.”
“No, I meant, how did that crack in your mind turn into a gaping hole where the dead came rushing through to speak to you at all times?”
“Oh,” she murmured.
“Well?”
“I was in a car crash with a really good friend. And he died.”
“And then he spoke to you?”
“Something like that.” She thought that he was going to scoff at her again, but it seemed that he could be quite mercurial in his manner. She was startled when his hand lay upon hers where it rested on the arm of the rocker and his words came out soft and gentle.
“Don’t you think that sometimes people see people, or hear them, just because they so desperately want to hear that person speak again?”
“Sometimes, yes.”
“But not with you?”
“I wish that was all that it had been,” Darcy told him.
His eyes were almost affectionate, and he watched her with an appreciation that once again sent her heart thundering, her blood racing. And she was startled to realize that she hadn’t been so strongly, almost magnetically, attracted to anyone like this in years. Maybe never. There was something in him beyond his extraordinary looks, and even the sense of power and security that he emitted. Something that made her want to crawl against his skin, stroke his face, and feel the warmth burst into sensations far greater. She was almost afraid to hear him speak, because the temptation to lean closer to him was so strong and aching. He was about to speak, and she was beyond fascinated to hear what he was about to say.
Except that words never left his mouth.
The great double doors at the front of the house flew open and Delilah came bursting out, full of smiles and charm.
“Aren’t you all coming in to join us for a drink and some snacks? I must say, Penny is just the most priceless human being in the world. In a matter of minutes she’s created the most delightful spread in the kitchen!”
They both stared at her rather blankly for a minute.
Darcy had liked Delilah from the start. She was a nice woman, and seemed intelligent, and really concerned about her job for the county.
At that moment, though, she could have hit her.
Delilah continued, “Oh, Matty, please, don’t be upset about the silly tapping tonight. Penny and Liz are right—we did come close to contact. Don’t be angry with all of us!”
“I’m not angry,” Matt said, rising and sounding only somewhat impatient. �
��We’ll join you.”
Delilah started back into the house. Matt reached out a hand to Darcy. “Coming?”
She accepted his hand and rose. It was as if there were sparks in his fingers. At that moment though, she wasn’t sure that he noticed in the least.
“Matty?” she said lightly, arching a brow.
“It’s what happens when you’ve lived in a small town and known people too long and too well.”
“Ah,” she murmured, wanting to ask, how well?
She refrained, and let him lead her on back into the house.
Penny had created quite a spread. Tea, coffee, mixed drinks, chips and dips, buffalo wings, Southern pecan pie, and other little desserts that Darcy knew she had prepared earlier in the day.
Darcy had never been less hungry, but since Penny had baked the pie herself, she toyed with a piece and opted for an Irish coffee—made with decaf, Penny explained, so she wouldn’t keep anyone up all night. Clint and Carter were in rare form, accusing one another of the tapping, Delilah was flirtatious, and Mae was excited, thanking Matt over and over again for letting her come, and begging to be invited if they tried a seance again. Liz scolded the boys for being silly when she was up to something important. Penny seemed a little quiet when she wasn’t being the perfect hostess. David Jenner spoke about the different qualities of tape and film, and asked Darcy her preferences for her work. As they picked up the remnants of their meal, Delilah charmingly cornered Matt over a parking problem they were having near the town hall.
Darcy rinsed plates and put them into the dishwasher with Clint and Carter bringing in the used utensils and only half helping as they flirted. She had grown to like them both, even though she did get a start, feeling as if she were speaking with a modern-day Jeb Stuart every time she met Carter’s eyes above the growth of his beard. Still, she was strangely keyed, and exhausted at the same time. When she could, she left the two of them dealing with the dishwasher and excused herself to Penny, Mae, and Elizabeth and escaped up the stairs to the Lee Room.
As she prepared for bed, she didn’t feel a thing in the room. Not the slightest intuitive whisper of a presence. Not even the sense of being watched. Despite the fact that it was her business to discover just what was going on, she was glad she was ready for a good night’s rest.
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